


Dark of Night

by FrozenMemories



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Tumblr fic prompt: Calming them down when they have a bad dreamSet in the bunker. Jackson has a nightmare.
Relationships: Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	Dark of Night

Jackson doesn’t scream. In fact, Jackson doesn’t make a single sound, not even a whimper. He doesn’t thrash around either. And still, Miller _knows._ He can feel his elaborated breathing, the thin sheen of sweat against his own back, the way Jackson’s body is rigid and tense.

He rolls until he can face his boyfriend, even though it’s too dark to see.

“Jacks,” he whispers, careful not to draw the attention of anyone else who shares their room.

Nothing.

“Jacks, baby, wake up,” he tries again, a hand gently carding through Jackson’s damp hair.

He digs his fingers in with gentle pressure, hoping to stir Jackson awake without startling him, while his other hand slides beneath Jackson’s neck, feeling the thrumming pulse against his palm.

His thumb catches on the soft stubble as it strokes a clammy cheek.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxes quietly, “Open your eyes.”

Jackson mumbles in his dazed state, something unintelligible and far away. The distance between them is so miniscule Miller can feel Jackson’s hot, irregular breath on his face. He licks his dry lips and closes the gap, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of Jackson’s mouth.

He lingers there for a moment, while Jackson’s lips quiver against his own. And then a hitched breath tells him Jackson’s come out of whatever dream he’s been submerged in.

“Nate?”

It’s not even a whisper, more like a soundless gasp.

“I’m here, baby,” he utters into Jackson’s skin.

All the tension seems to fade from his body in an instant, as Jackson slumps into himself and buries his face in the crook of Miller’s neck.

“You were gone.”

Miller gathers he is talking about his dream but answers anyway, “I wasn’t.”

He wraps his arms firmly around Jackson and starts stroking his back.

“I’m right here.”


End file.
